It Ain't Pretty
by jenson40
Summary: It ain't pretty when someone breaks. Especially when that person is Lucas Friar. With Lucas beaten down at a bar, he calls the only person he can think of. His princess. Rucas one-shot.


**OK, so I know that I should be working on my other stories, but I'm not. Hey what's new? So anyway this is a cute rucas one shot to hopefully tide y'all over until I have the next chapter of AWRT. I will tell y'all I'm working really hard on that story. I mean like really hard. Also HIWHI is hopefully gonna have a second chapter soon! We'll see, but just so you all know I haven't abandoned either story, just have been busy with school and other things. So, here we go! I present you It Ain't Pretty!**

 _"_ _I just bought a drink_

 _Downtown all alone_

 _Searching through the names_

 _Getting lost in my cellphone_

 _It ain't pretty, it ain't pretty_

 _When a heart breaks"_

 _-_ Lady Antebellum "It Ain't Pretty"

Lucas walked into the bar. He had gotten the call about an hour ago, and he frankly couldn't take it. He didn't want any friends; he just wanted to be alone. No people no problems. No people no heart break. No promises broken. No lives destroyed. Life is so much easier when you just have to worry about yourself.

"Whiskey on the rocks." He told the bar tender. The 20 something behind the counter didn't even ask for his ID. They didn't care that he was only 19. He had looked 36 since middle school for crying out loud. The bar tender handed him the drink, and Lucas thanked him before taking a sip.

The amber liquid slid down his throat like tar. It tasted horrible, but it would help drown his sorrows. The drink was gone quickly and the blond teenager had asked for yet another. As he waited for the drink, he looked down at his phone. He kept wondering if he should call someone and talk to them about it. As his second whiskey came his way, Lucas put his phone in his pocket and downed the horrible tasting drink. Though this time it didn't taste as bad as it had the first time around.

Eventually, the amount of drinks passed in a blur as he sat there telling his sob story to the bar tender. "I mean who tells their dad they hate 'im?" Lucas slurred. The bar tender was only half listening, while he whipped glasses and filled orders. "And then he goes and dies before I can freakin' say ssssorrry. What's whit dat? Ugh people are stupid." He ranted. The bar tender looked at him meekly as the teenager's fist connected with the bar top.

"My last wooordss to m-my dad werrrre, I hate chou. Well ya know what? I stillll hate 'im. I don't carre that 'e's dead. I hate 'im. Sstupid dad." Lucas continued to shout. By now the bar tender looked at him scared before speaking rather nicely.

"Hey, bud why don't I call you a cab?" The man standing with all the beer asked. Lucas looked at him with blood shot eyes and shook his head.

"Nah man, I'm fiiine." He replied before falling over. The bar tender stared at him with pity. Helping him up the bar tender continued.

"Is there any one you can call?" Having people this drunk in the bar was kind of bad for the business. Lucas nodded numbly, and picked the most frequently called number. He looked at the older man and put a finger to his lips.

"I'ss ringin'." He whispered. On the fourth ring someone finally picked up.

"Hello?" Said someone groggily asked. Lucas's face suddenly turned into a large grin as he heard the voice on the end.

"Aaaaaaaaay Rilesssss. How you doin'?" He tried doing a Joey Tribianni impression. On the other end there was rustling and a grunt, as Riley sat up.

"Are-are you drunk?" She asked him tentatively. Lucas then frowned again.

"What's it to ya?" He fought. He heard Riley shuffle around on her end of the phone before speaking again.

"Lucas, I'm coming for you. Where are you?" She said with a jingling of her keys. Lucas smiled at her being so worried about him.

"I'm at that bar, Bar on B. You know the one. Byyyyyyyeeee! Love you sunshine." He tried to get off the phone, but Riley stopped him.

"Lucas Friar! If you hang up this phone, I will have your ass, or your head on a spit. Your choice." Lucas audibly gulped as he pondered his options.

"Fine," he pouted, "I'll be outside." Riley let out a shaky breath as she stepped into her car. The line was relatively silent as she maneuvered her small car through the late night traffic. Every once in a while she would ask a small question to make sure Lucas was still there. Every time he was. Riley was one of the few people he listened to.

As Riley pulled her car to the curb, she saw Lucas sitting in the street light. She could tell he was completely smashed without having to smell or listen to him. As she got out of the car, Lucas fell over and started retching horribly. After it looked like he had thrown up one of his intestines, he got into Riley's car.

"You know, yer the best Rilesss." The large teenager slurred as Riley practically carried him up to her apartment. She was dying under the weight, but she loved Lucas too much to give up on him now.

"Yeah, I know." She whispered as she finally reached her third story apartment. She quickly drew her key, and tried to unlock the door without dropping her very drunk friend. After what felt like ages, Riley managed to open the dark green door, and haul Lucas into her shoebox of an apartment. She threw him on to the couch and ran to get supplies.

She returned to the living room with: a bucket, a towel, some pajamas that Lucas had left over from their last all-nighter, soap (for later barf messes), some pillows, and her fluffiest blanket that she knew Lucas loved best. The petite brunette tried her best to make the older boy comfortable, but she couldn't tell with all his slurred words.

"Riles, come 'ere." Lucas beckoned with a whisper. As Riley got closer to him, she could smell the alcohol on his breath. He giggled while she got as close as possible without throwing up herself. "I-I looovvvvveee you Riless." He stated with another giggle. Riley sat kind of shocked, but then understood that it was only the alcohol talking.

"Well of course you do. We're friends aren't we?" Riley tried to get through this horrible conversation. Lucas laughed at her.

"No silly. I love yoooooouuu. L-like not like a frieeeennd. I mean I loooooooovvvvveee you." He continued to slur. Riley looked at him with tears in her eyes. It hurt her that he would be toying with her emotions while this drunk. After a few more minutes of his nonsense babbling, Riley turned to leave.

"Goodnight Lucas. If you need me I'll be in my room." And with that, she was gone. With her gone for a few minutes, Lucas then knew it was safe. Safe to cry. It was moments like these that made him hate himself. It didn't matter if he was coherent or not. He hated himself for doing this.

Riley heard the quiet sobs coming from her living room, and she crept quietly into the small room. On the couch sat Lucas, crying his eyes out. Riley sat next to him, questioning with her eyes. Before Lucas could continue his body racked with another sob. "M-my dad died." He finally breathed. Most of his slurs had left with the sobs. Riley's face dropped. "And the last thing I told 'im was I hated 'im." He continued.

Eventually, Lucas looked up at Riley. She could see the despair in his eyes, and she longed to hold him. Ever so slowly, the brunette wrapped her thin arms around his strong body. The blond teenager fell into the embrace, and rested his chin on her shoulder. He then continued to cry with her rubbing circles on his back. For years he had helped her with her problems and done this. Now it was her turn to help him.

After the tears had subsided, the two sat in silence. Suddenly, Lucas turned to Riley and pulled her face to his. The teenagers melted into the kiss. It was perfect until Riley backed away suddenly. "No, Lucas. We can't be doing that. Y-you're drunk. And these aren't real feelings. Goodnight." Then she walked out of the room for the rest of the night.

 **-GMW—**

He woke with a pounding headache. 'So this is what a hangover feels like.' He thought to himself. His body jolted when he heard a noise come from the kitchen. 'Wait, whose kitchen is this?!' he continued to frantically look around. Then he realized he was in Riley's apartment, and his clothes had been changed.

"What happened last night?" He wondered aloud. Riley came out from the kitchen after hearing the voice of the confused man. He turned to look at the girl, and saw the look of heartbreak in her eyes, and his heart hurt even more than it had when he heard his dad died.

"You got drunk, and called me. Then you slept on my couch." She commented without emotion. He wondered what had happened to her.

"Did I tell you anything last night?" Lucas questioned sitting up on the couch. Riley's breath hitched in her throat. He really didn't remember a thing.

"You, uh, you told me about your dad," She started. And Lucas let out a shaky breath. At least he hadn't said the worst thing he could have. "And then you told me you loved me." She whispered. It all came suddenly. That's why she looked like a kicked puppy. She was sad at him for telling her that. He was mad at himself, but it had to come out eventually.

"Well, I've been told that getting drunk makes you stupidly courageous." He stated looking right into her eyes. Her soft brown orbs boar into his green ones. She gasped lightly, as she watched his expressions. "I love you, Riley. And not just because you're the one that came to my rescue. And not just because I'm upset about my dad and needed comfort. I don't need a distraction. I love you. And I have since you fell into my lap on the subway."

"I love you, too." She sighed. "But you're hungover. And I mean we can't rush into this. It's all so sudden." Lucas chuckled a bit through his pain.

"Sudden? Riley it's been 7 years. I'm pretty sure that's not sudden." He pulled her down next to him. She nodded with a slight smile playing at the corners of her lips. She hugged him while skillfully dodging a kiss.

"You smell bad." Riley mentioned before getting up to walk back into her kitchen. As she strutted out of the room, Lucas took a light swing at her ass. She turned around and giggled at him before continuing her trek to the shoebox she called a kitchen.

It looked like Lucas Friar would heal. And pretty quickly at that. He had his princess.


End file.
